Welcome to Goodneighbor!
by NejiKikyoAnimeRose
Summary: Finn's at it again, the newcomer's a squishy vault dweller, and that can't mean anything good. Hancock's first encounter with the Sole Survivor from his perspective. Warning: some altered dialogue and strong language.


**Welcome to Goodneighbor!**

* * *

He'd been out talking to Fahrenheit about the whole Bobbi problem when the commotion at the entrance caught his attention. And there, rising above the murmur of the townsfolk with all the grace of nails on a chalkboard, was a familiar voice. Shit. It was fucking Finn. Again.

Hancock casually shifted his stance so that he could see the cause of all the ruckus. His eyes swept up and down the newcomer and he inclined his head in appreciation. "Nice." Fahrenheit scoffed.

Their guest had an appearance that practically screamed "rob me, I'm a weak target"; slender and smooth with a weird housewife kinda vibe, she wasn't packing all that much, and even the pistol she _was_ packing didn't lend much intimidation to the image. In addition to all that, her vault suit just gave her away for the sheltered little thing she was. And Finn was picking right up on it, starting up with his extortion bullshit.

Hancock's eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange play out. She was shivering and sweaty, covered with grime, and Hancock suspected that she'd had something to do with the cacophony of gunfire he'd heard not too long ago. Clearly she'd just been in a fight, she was running on empty, and the sight of another thug who just wanted her shit was not sitting well with her. Her dog was picking up on it too, hunkered down, ears back, hackles raised, snarling in warning. That little shit was not going to put up with Finn hounding his lady for much longer, and as amusing as it would be to watch Finn get taken down by a damn mutt, he didn't want to risk anyone coming to Finn's defense instead of the newcomer's.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out."

Finn whirled around in surprise and his eyes immediately narrowed as they took in Hancock's expression. Yep. Bastard knew what was coming.

The girl seemed just as surprised as Finn, and that was all the better. Hancock did so love to put on a good show.

Soon Finn was a crumpled heap on the ground, soaked in blood and dead as a doornail. He'd been one seriously shitty piece of shit, but he'd still deserved a quick end. It was one less headache for Hancock in the future, but still. Shame. He shook his head and turned his gaze to the newcomer.

"You alright, sister?"

She jumped again, her face pale and her eyes wide. Her dog was still growling, directing its warning to Hancock now and he tilted his head a bit in the creature's direction.

"You mind calling ol' Spot off for me?" he asked, sheathing his knife and holding his arms out in that universal 'I mean no harm' gesture. "I just want to talk. No bullshit from me, you got my word." The woman started slightly at that and quickly ordered her mongrel down. Hancock grinned and tipped his hat. "My thanks."

She was staring at him now, her eyes flicking over his face and taking in the details in a way that was all too familiar to Hancock. So she was a ghoul-hater? Was she from that uptight Vault 81 then?

Making sure to keep his expression welcoming, Hancock moved toward her and gestured away from Finn's body.

"Look, I want you to understand, what Finn just did? Not your typical Goodneighbor greeting. We here in Goodneighbor are of the people, for the people. And we got no room for that kind of shit. You're running from something? You got yourself a place here, so long as you play well with the other kids. Doesn't matter what kind of freak you are, Goodneighbor's always open." He paused and leveled her with a hard look. "So long as you remember who's in charge."

If it was possible, her face seemed to drain even more and she nodded quickly. Her shaking hadn't subsided and her grip on her pistol was still a little too tight for his liking, so Hancock took pity on her.

"And by the way," he said in a low voice. "We got a lot of rad freaks running around here, so for your own safety, I'd suggest you keep from staring like that. People might take it the wrong way, if you get my drift."

Well there was some color in her. Hancock didn't bother to fight his amusement as her cheeks turned a dusky red. Now why was that, he had to wonder? _You taking my meaning to be more… intimate than it's supposed to be?_

"N-no, I didn't mean to stare, I'm sorry," the woman rambled nervously. "It's just, you're the first—I mean, I'm not—I just—oh, fuck." Her head fell to her hands and she took in a few deep breaths as Hancock chuckled. "I think… I need a drink." She looked back up at him and there was that exhaustion again, written all over her face, and Hancock flippantly waved his hand, brushing that whole awkward exchange aside.

"Hey, that's the best way to make friends in Goodneighbor," he exclaimed. "You'll fit in just fine, I can tell." The newcomer shot him a surprisingly arch look, and Hancock grinned. "So, drinks, right? That'll be the Third Rail, just 'round the corner here." He gestured down the alleyway and the vaulter noticed Fahrenheit for the first time. Hancock silently observed their wordless interaction, fascinated as usual by Fahrenheit's ability to assert dominance without so much as uttering a single word.

"Anything else you need from the esteemed mayor of Goodneighbor?" Hancock asked with a wink. The woman turned back to him and shook her head, already moving quickly down the alley. Hancock chuckled as she disappeared.

"She skitters like a radroach," he snorted, turning back to the Old State House. "I give her a day before she heads up and out. What do you think?" Fahrenheit made a contemplative noise behind him.

"I'm just curious to see how she'll fit into the game," she mused. Hancock let out a groan and reached into his pocket for some Jet.

"Goddammit, Fahrenheit, shut the hell up with the fucking chess metaphors, would ya!?"

* * *

 **I love her dialogue in "The Big Dig", but beyond that, Fahrenheit seriously only ever talks about chess. Even if you talk to her after that first encounter with Hancock, she only talks in terms of chess. Work with me, here, Fahrenheit!**

 **Anyway, this is just a little oneshot written to get a handle on Hancock's voice, since I'll probably be writing a lot more of him in the future. Hopefully, I did him justice.**

 **Have a Blamco Day! (I really want to someone to say that in canon, but I've never run across it, unfortunately... Not even from Deacon)**


End file.
